


I Want You To Want Me

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [26]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little tropey, M/M, No set universe, Sex Pollen, pardon me I missed this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: Five times Steve tries to seduce Phil and one time he actually does.





	I Want You To Want Me

**One**

“Hey, you have a minute?” Steve’s voice sounded too loud to his own ears as he leaned his shoulder on the door jamb. Phil was sorting through what looked to be a mountain of files, but his movements were so sure that Steve was positive that Phil knew exactly what was what in the chaos that was the Director’s desk right now.

“Uh, a minute? Sure, shoot.” Phil glanced up at him as Steve took that as an invitation and stepped into Phil’s office, closing the door behind him. He brushed the palms of his hands against his legs, willing the clamminess to go away.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out for drinks?” Steve asked.

“Drinks?” Phil blinked at him. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Oh, uh, I meant later.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s a bar near where I live that’s got some nice regulars, I figured we could go there and unwind sometime.”

“Oh.” Phil pulled out his phone, glanced at his schedule, and winced. “This week’s no good for me, I’m sorry. Rain check?”

“Sure,” Steve said, running his tongue over his lips and exhaling. “Sometime next week?”

“Only if you promise not to hold me to it,” Phil said. He jumped and swore as his phone buzzed in his hand, answering it and gathering an armful of folders to his chest. “Yes, yes, I’m on my way, I’m not late yet. Be there in five.”

He brushed past Steve, shooting him a distracted smile as he slipped out the door. Steve sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Maybe next time.

* * *

**Two**

“He has a concussion,” Tony said, smirking around his cup of coffee at Phil.

“I don’t,” Steve said, though his words came out like they were coated in molasses. “Really. ‘m fine.”

Phil didn’t seem to take that statement at face value, peering at Steve from where he lay in his hospital bed. “And what happened to cause the concussion?”

“Genius here decided that it was all right for him to dive off a skyscraper after a villain who could fly,” huffed Bucky from his seat in the corner. He was filling in a sudoku, his tongue poking out between his lips as he wrote. “Luckily Vision managed to catch him, but the backblast from the kinetic charge the guy launched at them made them bounce off the unfinished portion of the skyscraper like a pinball. He’s mostly healed save for that hard head. He’s still the dumbass I tried to keep from enlisting.”

“Love you too, punk,” Steve said, though his gaze was drawn to Phil. The Director’s expression was one of soft concern, and he felt the flush crawl up his chest to his neck and ears. “…what?”

“Nothing,” Phil said. He glanced at Bucky and Tony. “Will you gentlemen excuse us? I need to debrief the Captain and I have agents standing by to take your statements, if you would be so kind.”

Bucky shrugged, unfolding himself from the chair and standing. He stretched and his back popped, making him give a satisfied grunt before he tossed the puzzle book on his chair. The look he gave Steve was knowing, and it took all of Steve’s control to not hop out of bed and rough-house Bucky to the ground for the insinuation. When Bucky clapped Tony on the shoulder and they started bickering about coffee grounds in the disposal again, Steve breathed a little easier.

“They’ve made great strides in the past few months,” Phil remarked, watching them go.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “No team building required. Just an apocalypse.”

Phil took a seat on the edge of the bed, surprising Steve. He felt his flush deepen and he was glad that his resting heartrate was naturally higher than considered normal due to the serum, otherwise Phil might have noticed the skip in the monitor.

“You never took me up on that drink,” Steve said, biting his lip. Why had he said that—blurted it—now? Maybe he did have a concussion after all.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. He poured Steve a glass of water and got him a straw, letting him drink his fill. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Steve leaned back, letting the tepid water settle in his stomach. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Why?”

“Because I like to think we’re friends,” Phil replied. “And I blew you off and that’s not fair.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Next week, then, when I’m outta here. Friday night. No rain checks.”

“…deal.”

Steve smiled. “That was easy. Thought it might be harder to get a date out of you.”

“What?”

“Huh?” Steve feigned innocence, cracking open an eyelid. “That’s what it is, right? Drinks as friends.”

“Mm,” Phil said, the deep timbre of his voice reaching a lower register making Steve’s hackles stand on end. It was a good thing, the shiver building in his stomach and sharpening an anticipation in him he wasn’t even aware of, not until Phil spoke. “I suppose. Now. About that jump off Kingpin’s penthouse suite…”

* * *

**Three**

The knock on his door made him rise, setting aside the oil paints he was working with. While visitors were uncommon, it was still a rather nice thing to have happen on a weekday. Even nicer, it turned out to be Phil, revealed by the camera Tony had installed as part of his initiative to make Avenger homes safer outside of the compound.

He buzzed Phil up and opened the door for him, revealing the Director dressed down in jeans and a sweatshirt, holding bags of takeout.

“A rare day off?” Steve asked.

Phil smiled. “Not really. Mental health day.”

“Anna made you take the time because you weren’t taking it on your own.” Steve cocked his head and squinted at him. “Why come here?”

“Thought you might not have eaten yet, and by the state of the splatter, I’d say that was right,” Phil said. He shrugged, and though Steve didn’t quite get his hopes up, there was still a pleasant flutter in his chest.

“And the nearest office is half a block away,” Steve supplied. Phil had the decency to at least look a little ashamed.

“Guilty. Do you mind?” Phil asked.

“Not at all. I’m glad you came. Mind if I hit the shower and wash off the paint before we start?” he asked.

“The food will keep for a bit.” Phil stepped inside and Steve locked up behind him.

“Ten minutes,” he said, his voice muffled as he closed the door behind him. Ten minutes washing up turned into a five-minute debate before he pulled on a nicer shirt and buttoned it up before emerging, clean and barefoot, into his living room. He might ask Phil this time. Maybe. If he was lucky. He took a deep breath—

—only to find Phil fast asleep on his couch, chin tucked against his fist, snoring softly.

Steve gave a quiet sigh, though it was a fond one, and gently rearranged Phil so that he was lying on the couch and covered with one of the multitudes of old quilts Steve owned, salvaged from thrift stores and repaired to their former glory.

The food could keep for later.

* * *

**Four**      

He itched. His skin felt tight all over, like he was stretched too thin and he was so hot. Whatever had blasted him in the face, it was making him dizzy, his head spinning as he stumbled toward the door. The comms babbled in his ear, but he couldn’t summon the concentration necessary to follow the lines of communication. Instead, he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily.

“Captain?”

He lifted his head, forcing himself to focus. Standing before him in his tactical gear was Phil.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, swaying on his feet.

“Did you get sprayed?” Phil asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. He took a step forward and stumbled. Phil was there, grunting under the impact Steve made against him, but keeping him upright. Steve inhaled, taking in the scent of Phil’s cologne, still available to his sensitive nose, and he groaned.

“Easy, easy,” Phil said, moving him to a natural alcove of the cave system, putting Steve’s back against the wall and easing him into a sitting position. “Take it easy. I have evac en route. Try and breathe for m—”

Steve tugged Phil into his lap, sealing his mouth over Phil’s. Startled, Phil relaxed in his grip, making Steve’s hands wander down Phil’s back to his rear, taking a firm grip and pressing the Director into his chest as he took his fill. Lack of air made them break apart, leaving Steve feeling giddy. He rocked Phil in his lap, feeling the friction through his clothing, and he groaned again as want shot straight to his groin and made him cup the back of Phil’s head, kissing him again.

“Cap—” Phil couldn’t get a word in edgewise, Steve’s hungry kisses interrupting him at every turn. There was an edge of filthy desperation here, even as Steve nuzzled against Phil’s neck.

“I want you,” he husked against the bared skin of Phil’s throat, where he’d pulled apart the collar of Phil’s tac vest.

“We need to stop,” Phil said.

Steve whined, mouthing at the juncture of Phil’s neck and shoulder, leaving tiny love bites as he went.

“Steve—”

“I want this,” Steve mumbled. “Don’t you want this?”

“You’re not in your right mind, Captain.”

“This is the first time I’ve been in my right mind,” Steve groaned. “Please.”

There was a heartbeat of hesitation as Phil studied Steve’s face. Steve took that as a go ahead, and he leaned in to kiss Phil again.

The prick of the injector made him grunt, and his whole world started to pitch and yaw, his field of view elongating, as though he were viewing things from a long tunnel.

“Sorry, Captain,” Phil said as Steve slumped back against the wall of the cave, his eyes closing as he lost consciousness. “It’s for your safety.”

* * *

**Five**   

Steve was avoiding Phil. There weren’t two ways about it, honestly. He kept to his apartment and the little garden he’d built on the rooftop, huddling in his own space until the mortification died down.

So far, it had been six weeks with no sign of it stopping.

Bucky swung by regularly, making sure he was eating and that he was all right physically, though he couldn’t even tell Bucky what had gone on while he and Phil had been alone in that cave. Instead, he just told Bucky he was feeling a little down and needed some time to himself. It would get them off his back without regular missions for a while, but Steve knew it was only a matter of time until someone came calling.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Phil, stepping out of Lola as she hovered over a clear space on the roof and letting her park herself on the curb below. He landed lightly, barely a grunt, and Steve sighed from where he was pruning back his row of squash in the greenhouse. The first time Phil had done it, it made an impressive show; even now, when Steve knew about Lola’s capabilities and her autopilot, it was still impressive. He might have let Phil stand there longer than was strictly necessary, and only the thought of his mother scolding him for it made him rise and turn to where Phil was waiting patiently.

“Captain,” Phil said.

“Thought I asked you not to call me that out of uniform,” Steve said. “Besides, don’t think I’ve lived up to the name recently.”

“Says who?” Phil asked. “Last I checked you’re still the same upstanding man who greeted my enthusiasm in that Quinjet with way more grace than I would have done.”

Steve huffed. “You’re not even angry? About—”

Phil held up a hand. “You were under the influence of a mind-altering substance, Captain. Any and all actions can be attributed to foreign compounds in your system. Granted, a lot of your natural immunity makes this a rare occurrence to you, which might make it all the more disturbing for you.”

“I almost—” Steve stopped himself, running an agitated hand through his hair and making it stand on end as he tried to approach this rationally. “What I did was unforgiveable.”

“And entirely out of your control at the moment,” Phil said. “As I said, this happens at SHIELD enough that there’s a whole section of paperwork centered around what to do as far as quarantine goes.”

“I can’t…separate it, like you can.” Steve shrugged. “It’s not the same for me.”

“I recognize that,” Phil said. His tone was gentle, and that just frustrated Steve further.

“Did any of that make any sort of impact?” Steve wondered. “I would have thought we’d have more of a talk about how I basically dragged you into my lap and all but tugged your shirt off.”

Phil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Steve. Again. I’m not going to comment on that, because you weren’t in control of your actions.”

“I’m in control of my actions now!” Steve snapped. “So, how about it? Want to go downstairs and have a fling? No strings attached.”

He flung an arm at the door leading to the stairs, where his apartment waited. Tension crackled between them, thicker and hotter than the Brooklyn summer air.

Phil paused, blinking at Steve in bewildered confusion. “Steve, what’s all this about?”

“You know what. Just…forget it. I’ll be fine in a couple of days and we can go back to…whatever it was that we were before. I think we were friends.” Steve turned back to his squash row. “It’s all right.”

“Steve—”

“Phil, I really think you should go now,” Steve grated, his back to the Director. “I’ll check in here in a few days.”

“All right,” Phil said softly. There was a moment of hesitation, though Steve could still hear Phil behind him, the silence more contemplative than guilty. “I’ll see you when you’re ready. My door’s always open, and my phone’s always on.”

“…thanks,” Steve muttered.

* * *

**Bonus:**        

“There’s always been something about being on the road,” Phil said as they cleared the first mile marker into New Mexico. Steve leaned back in Lola’s seat, his arm resting on the door as Lola chewed up the miles.

“I always figured you for a homebody,” Steve said. “Unless you were called to duty.”

“Mm,” Phil said, shrugging. “I like to think for the right person, I could be a homebody, but the job always came first. Duty always got in the way of that white picket fence.”

“That sounds like regret,” Steve said.

“Do you regret it?” Phil asked. “The serum, all of it?”

“No,” Steve answered. “Do you?”

“No,” Phil said with a smile. “But no one else would understand that.”

Steve chewed that over like the stick of jerky in his hand, slowly and savoring the little bits of Phil that the Director had deigned to share with them. They were tracking another Inhuman, but their pace wasn’t dictated by danger this time; merely checking on information and verifying the young man’s existence. Steve had opted to come along, as part of his agreement to help with outreach in the metahuman community. A blend of human and science, he straddled that line well enough, SHIELD assured him.

Mostly, it was his co-pilot that had convinced him that it wouldn’t be so bad to take a drive across the US. Steve found Phil was right. The last week had been relaxing in a way that even his own chosen activities during down time couldn’t be. There was no pressure to be Captain America, at least not yet. For now, it was just Steve and Phil, and Steve soaked up the normalcy like a sponge, wondering if he’d ever see it again.

They were approaching Tucumcari and the sun was setting, bathing the desert in a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows that cooled to purples and blues as they started seeing signs indicating the hotels and food at the upcoming town.

“We should stop for the night,” Phil said, the cool night air washing over them. Instead of stopping in town, however, he opted to drive a little farther through, to where an older, out of the way motel sat huddled on the side of the road. Phil parked at the office, stepped inside, and returned less than ten minutes later with a key and a nod to Steve.

“Why here?” Steve asked.

“Standing arrangement,” Phil said. “SHIELD brings them some business when we’re in town, so they reserve a couple rooms for us if we need them for a fee.”

“You do this a lot of places?” Steve asked as Phil pulled Lola around to a ground floor room.

“Sometimes it’s nice to know you can have boots on the ground and not have to sleep on a cot,” Phil said with a smile. “Come on, I could use a shower.”

Steve followed Phil into the motel room, finding a quiet, clean room waiting for them. The furniture was old, but well-cared for, and the blankets were folded neatly on the single queen-sized bed.

“You said no cots,” Steve said.

Phil peered at the bed and hummed. “That going to be a problem?”

“No, I’ve bunked closer and in less comfortable places,” Steve replied.

“Good.” Phil set his bag on the foot of the bed, pulling his usual flannel pants and a soft old tee from the depths. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Find the menu, will you?”

“Sure.” Steve set his own duffel down on the other chair, reaching for the folded pile of takeaway menus on the table before him.

It was a little strange, this feeling. He hadn’t felt this sense of anticipation around Phil since…well, the debacle six months ago. Truly, they’d put it behind them now, he felt, though it took him a while to just resign himself to being Phil’s friend and avoiding the subject of wanting more than that.

Now, though, the air felt supercharged, like Thor had landed ready to fight beside him.

He focused on picking something for dinner. Why were there so many Thai places out here? To hear Tony talk about it, the southwest was full of TexMex and terrible-for-you burrito gut bombs, but maybe things had changed.

He hadn’t even noticed the water had stopped until the waft of steam from the opening door carried the scent of damp skin and Phil’s soap to his nose. He looked up, starting his sentence, then stopping.

The pressure in the room felt like a hand on his chest, holding him in place as Phil came out, barefoot with a towel around his neck. Phil smiled at him, moving within reach as he looked down at the menus in Steve’s hands.  
“Anything good?” Phil asked. He stilled as Steve reached up, bringing a hand to the small of his back. Steve’s blue eyes met Phil’s blue-grey, the color of gunmetal in the dimmed lamps of the room.

“Phil,” Steve said. He coughed and cleared his throat, trying again. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“I’d like to let you,” Phil said, his voice barely there. “Are you sure—”

Steve pulled Phil close, between his knees, and cupped his face as he kissed him. It was awkward, noses bumping, the angle all wrong, giddy breathless laughter and for Steve, it was absolutely  _perfect_. In a no-name motel in the middle of nowhere.

“You still didn’t decide what you wanted for dinner,” Phil said, his mouth inches from Steve’s own, the brush of their lips enough to make him shiver.

“We can eat later,” Steve said.

“Okay,” Phil said, his voice a hum of anticipation along Steve’s nerves. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Steve said, moving to stand and pull Phil closer. They tumbled to the bed, knocking Phil’s bag to the floor and starting another round of breathless laughter.

For the first time in a long time, he found that it was true.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, this got away from me and I regret nothing. It also came out more fluff and less seduction, but I don’t much mind. Thanks for reading!


End file.
